I was dreaming. In my dream, I was sitting on my bed in my hotel room, alone, waiting. I wasn't sure what or who I was waiting for- I just knew that anytime soon, something important would happen, and I had to be there when it did. My hands rested beside me, and I felt someone touch it. I looked behind me, and there was Chuck, smiling. He out my hand in his, and began moving his thumb across my palm in smooth, stoking motions. I closed my eyes, and felt him move closer to me, until his entire body was wrapped around me.

And then I woke up. My dream was closer to life than I might have thought, as we were both lying in the bed in the motel room we'd checked into the night before. And Chuck was spooning with me. We must have moved closer together in our sleep. I had woken up when he shifted closer to me- I wasn't sure if he had been awake or not- and I turned over on my side to look at him. He was awake, and looked straight into my eyes.

I saw him begin to move closer to me, and in the split second that it took me to comprehend what was about to happen, I thought, screw it. I wanted Chuck Bartowski. There were no cameras this time, no Bryce Larkin anywhere near, no bombs about to explode. I wanted to kiss Chuck, to kiss him and not care about what the CIA would say or what it would do to our cover.

So, I did.

Our lips met in a frenzy. This was different than our cover kisses, different than the way Chuck had kissed me in front of Roan. This was like our kiss back at the docks, when I had thought that we were both going to die within seconds, and for once, I let my emotions take me over. But instead of me taking the lead, Chuck had, and I was glad. I had known that he was a good kisser, better than I'd expected- but this was excellent. He slipped his tongue over mine, biting softly on my lower lip, until I couldn't help but let out a small moan. He moved until he was straddling me, and I was on my back, almost hitting my head on the nightstand. It'd only been a few seconds, but we were both breathing pretty heavily. He stopped kissing me (why isn't he kissing me anymore???) and just looked at me. And then he smiled.

He leaned back in, and we started when we'd left off. My hands began to make their way underneath his shirt. He pulled away again, and told me urgently, "Don't move. Don't breathe."

"Okay," I said breathily, wondering what he was doing.

"Don't move, don't breathe, don't move," he told me, climbing off the bed and running into the bathroom, still in his shirt and boxers. "Stay here!"

I lay back in the bed and put my arms behind my bed. I heard him rummaging around in the bathroom (what the hell is he doing, when we could be making out in bed?), and then a few choice curse words. I supposed he was looking for a condom, and couldn't find one- when was the last time he had to use one, anyways? Oh. Right. Jill. So, maybe a condom was a good idea, even though I had an IUD- convenient for missions that might require seduction, more so than other forms of birth control. Didn't know what she might have given to him, although knowing Chuck, he'd probably gotten himself tested. So, I laid in the bed, and turned over in sexual frustration as he hurriedly hopped out of the bathroom changing into his jeans on the way. He pulled on a shirt, telling me, "Don't move- I'll be right back," and opened the door and left the room.

I guessed that he was walking over to the motel manager's office, hoping to get some condoms. Knowing that he probably wouldn't be able to get any, I reluctantly got out of bed and went to take a shower. A cold one.